


Empty

by Fox88



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox88/pseuds/Fox88
Summary: Harry wants him more than anything.  It's a longing that he wishes he could extinguish, but he returns time and time again.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 15





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> this is an old one I found in my Google Drive  
Yay, angst!

1  
Harry walked through the hallways, navigating through the throngs of students to make his way to charms class. As he walked, people jostled him from both sides, but he somehow felt it when someone pressed a piece of paper into his pocket. Dipping into an alcove, he sighed in relief. He drew the paper out of his pocket to see messy writing scrawled onto it: “Tonight, room of requirement.” A warmth spread onto his cheeks as memories popped into his head. The heavy, heated kisses. Fingers leaving bruises on his shoulders, nails raking across his back, hands pinning him to the bed.  
Then,  
the emptiness.  
Seeing him flirting with Parkinson.  
Silence.  
Seeing him pushing another boy up against the wall in an abandoned hallway.  
Loneliness.  
But Harry was okay with this. He had to be, or he would never be able to touch the other again.

...No. No, he wasn't.

He wasn’t okay.

1.5  
So that night, Harry stayed in bed.  
He didn’t swing on his invisibility cloak or skip the creaky step on the way down the stairs.  
He didn’t glide through the empty, black hallways to stop in front of the Room of Requirement and didn’t wait in tense anticipation for the other boy to show up thirty minutes late as he always did.  
Harry stayed awake throughout the night, staring up at the dark ceiling and wondering what the other was doing.  
It wasn’t until two in the morning that the images of what he was missing overwhelmed him.  
It wasn’t until two until he cast a muffliato charm, let his hand travel downward, and slipped into ecstasy at the thought of stormy grey eyes and tousled blond hair.

2  
The next morning, Harry hurried through an early breakfast and stole out of the great hall relatively unnoticed - or so he thought. A pair of shoes clicked on the floor behind him as someone walked ever closer, finally reaching his side. He refused to look over until a hand closed around his arm.  
“Potter. Where were you last night?” The question was light, but there was an underlying warning in his tone. “I missed you.”  
“I’m sure you’ll easily be able to find someone to replace me,” Harry replied tightly.  
There was a silence, the hand tightening around his arm, well-manicured nails digging painfully into his skin.

The calm before the storm.

“What are you saying?” His voice was low, dangerous, but Harry knew he couldn’t be intimidated. He’d let himself be fooled for much too long by the other’s smooth, opaque exterior.  
“I’m saying that we’re done.”  
“And what brought this on? You won’t find anyone better than me, Potter. Or have you found someone willing to be long-term with you?”  
“What if I have?”  
A warm breath ghosted over his ear as the other leaned in close. His voice was light, but there was no mistaking the meaning behind the words.  
“You are mine, Potter,” he whispered to the boy who lived. “And only mine.”  
The pressure around his forearm was released as the boy let go, turning away and walking the opposite direction, shoes clicking against the stone floor.  
Harry couldn’t help but feel a tug in his chest. It was a dangerous feeling. And despite his better judgement, he couldn’t help but think - maybe he should give the other one more chance.

2.5  
When he sauntered up to Harry that night after dinner and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, Harry couldn’t help but sag into the familiar embrace. He saw Hermione’s disapproving and concerned glances. He could practically hear her stern voice telling him what he was doing was unhealthy, but he wasn’t sure he cared.  
The sharp smell of mint and expensive cologne flooded his senses when he was led into the bathrooms and fucked against the wall.  
The rest of the day passed in a haze after that, only coming back into sharp clarity when he turned a corner to find his lover snogging the life out of Parkinson. When the couple saw him, Parkinson gave him a disgusted glance while the other’s cool grey eyes flicked up to meet his green ones, then connected his lips with the girl’s again, disinterested.

Once again, there was the sharp twang in his chest.

3  
After a long conversation with Hermione, he finally was convinced. Today would be the last time.  
“You have to stop being weak, Harry,” Hermione had gently told him. “He doesn’t own you.”  
“This relationship,” she had told him. “It’s not healthy. Please, Harry. I can’t keep watching you like this.”

So here he was, waiting in front of the Room of Requirement for the other.  
This time would be different.

No more submission.

4  
The meeting went as expected.  
Draco tried to protest, tried to act like he owned Harry.  
Harry stuck with Hermione’s advice and didn’t take his bullshit.

And now, two months later, he started to miss him again, started to long for Draco to use him once more. He knew it wasn’t love for the other, but he had to be content with it. He could pretend through the emptiness. All he had to do was pretend.

4.5  
The next night, Harry would close his eyes as cool, slender fingers slid over his chest. He would listen to the other's moans and roll them around in his head until they formed three words, one phrase. He would imagine himself admitting what he felt, and would imagine hearing the words repeated back to him.  
He knew Draco would never say this to him, but he could still dream that one day, he would hear "I love you, too."


End file.
